Dreams, redux
by LunaMystik
Summary: Pam's dreams, prior to and after Boys and Girls.


Dreams. What little girl doesn't have them? I remember when I was five and dreamed of owning a pony. With hindsight, not a very achievable (or original) dream, but it sustained my childish daydreams for months. When I got to high school and really started _doing_ something about my interest in art, I dreamed of one day being a famous artist, with a gallery in New York and customers flying in from around the world to admire and purchase my work.

And then Roy happened. If I was a quiet, shy girl, a typical "Miss Artsy-Fartsy" (Roy's words, never mine), well Roy was my polar opposite. He was _everything_ back in high school. He was older than me, a football player, a jock, Mr. Popularity. Roy was one of my dreams during freshman year and he, by some weird twist of fate, became my reality in November when I was a sophomore.

Looking back, I'm ashamed to say that as I became more involved in our blossoming relationship, my dreams of winning an art scholarship to college as my ticket out of Pennsylvania slowly receded, and my life became tailgate parties, football games, hockey games and weekends hanging out at the mall. When it became obvious, sometime during my senior year, that Roy wouldn't be leaving Scranton, I started evaluating what I could do if I stayed in town. Roy was already working at Dunder Mifflin at that point; he'd started as soon as he graduated from school. The pay was decent, the benefits were good and he promised that, within a couple of years, he'd have enough saved up to buy a house.

So I set my sights on an education degree at Marywood University. Not exactly the big time, but I minored in art, so it wasn't that bad. I figured that teaching art could be just as exciting as being an internationally renowned artist because I would be shaping the young minds of _future_ internationally renowned artists. An acceptable trade-off, all in all, I figured.

What I didn't count on were the scarcity of teaching jobs in Scranton when I graduated. I ended up working for minimum wage in a small art supply store. They didn't even give staff discounts on the merchandise!

It was during this dark time that I started fantasizing about my future with Roy. I wanted a house, kids, the works. I wanted to marry him, to spend the rest of my life with him by my side, even if it meant living in Scranton and never seeing what else was out there. _Out there_ had become a scary place at that point; the enormity and the potential of it terrified me. All those people, all their dreams becoming a reality while mine slowly atrophied and died out. Freaky stuff, best left unexplored, in my opinion at the time.

Two years into my "career", Roy proposed. We had a big party, my parents and his starting talking china patterns and then… nothing. My change of status from girlfriend to fiancée was represented merely by the diamond ring on my left hand. Roy wasn't in a hurry to settle down. Part of his hesitation, I suppose, was my crappy job. There was no way we could buy a house and support a family on his blue-collar salary and my pitiful paycheck.

And then… (insert vaguely military-sounding trumpet noises here) Dunder Mifflin to the rescue! Roy came home from work one day with a job description in his hand. "Baby," he'd said, "I have a great idea. The receptionist at work just quit. Why don't you apply for the job? The pay is ok, and that way we'd be able to drive to work together."

"Ok… maybe," I'd replied. "But what about the boss? Aren't you always complaining about what a moron he is? Why would I want to work for someone like that?"

"Pam, you know how I love to exaggerate. Michael's cool, he can just be a little…immature sometimes. No big deal. Nothing you can't handle."

And that was how I joined the Dunder Mifflin "family". Good times. No, really, Michael is a joy to work for, he… Ok, no, working here is a total drag. But it pays the bills better than my old job and I have a few friends at work. Jim especially has kept me from putting my head through my computer screen many a times. And I get to work with Roy, which is great. We have lunch together, sometimes, and bitch about Michael together. At least we used to, but Roy spends most of his evenings out with Darryl these days. It's great that he has such a good friend at work, really it is. And it's ok, because Jim's my ally in the fight against Michaelism now, and he does a first-rate job at it.

I feel I've achieved a sort of balance in my life. It isn't art, or even teaching art, but it's ok. At work, I get to express my creative side in other ways: Jim is constantly trying to come up with original ways to torture Dwight, and it is totally (totally!) my pleasure to help him. Moving his desk to the men's room? The execution was all Jim, but the idea was mine. And at home, well, Roy has finally set the date for the wedding, so that's all falling into place as well. Balance. It's all very zen.

Which is why Jan's suggestion of a graphic design internship in New York kind of threw my balance off a little. The initial excitement and feeling of _wow, is this really happening_ was dampered by Roy's lack of enthusiasm about the idea. Why can't he be more like Jim sometimes? Jim was so encouraging and into the idea, I could've sworn it was him who was offered the opportunity. He's so great about things like that. I guess that's what friends are for, you know, encouraging each other to aspire for more, to dream, to take chances.

But Roy is right, it's not practical. I mean, we're getting married in a few months. It's hardly the time to go running off to New York on the weekends to learn a new trade. And honestly, what are the chances of graphic design being a viable commodity in Scranton? Probably not that great, so it would all be for nothing. No, I'm sure this is the right choice.

But… why does it feel so wrong?

Well, whatever. It was a nice dream for the short time it lasted.


End file.
